


best paired with a fine Dornish red

by Darling_Ghost



Series: Arya rises: Braavos, an awakening and sweet vengeance [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Faceless Arya, Revenge, poetry prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:21:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8830279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darling_Ghost/pseuds/Darling_Ghost
Summary: " My name is Arya Stark. I want you to know that... the last thing you're ever going to see is a Stark smiling down at you as you die. " oh! the ecstatic fervor!the wolf has returnedteeth bared  A reimagining - and a completion - to Arya's last appearance in season 6.





	

 

_He took her face between his hands_

_Pressed a kiss on her forehead_

_One on each closed eye_

_Breathed in her scent_

_His protege_

_His beloved_

_Go now, girl._

_He would be waiting, waiting in the shadows._

 

* * *

 

this body didn’t move quite the same

_this body was unfamiliar_

her hips swayed as she walked

at least it moved as silently as her own

it would do.

 

these hands were longer than hers

the fingers unrecognizable

white marble and graceful

as they touched the unfamiliar hair

that waved chestnut down past unknown breasts

and curled around her waist

 

_Hands Hair Hips of No One_

 

No One set the dish down in front of him.

 

she knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her

saw his lecherous look once twice

felt the slap of his hand on her

his voice was stuck between a cackle and leer

wrapped up in his own self-satisfaction

as he briefly contemplated

fucking her

for dessert

 

she set his meal in front of him

and lowered her eyes with a servant’s deference

stilling her excitement

stiling her shaking hand

 

blood rising as she watched him

the first flush of triumph:

 

He

Took

A

Bite.

 

_she had waited so so long for this_

 

she could barely hold back her breath

and she watched the dead man lean forward

chewing, appreciating his fine meal

his last meal.

 

he washed down the delicacy

with some sweet Dornish wine.

his hands veins roped greyed and yellowed

grasped the pewter goblet obscenely.

 

he looked up at the empty chamber

wasps irritated his voice a strident whine

“Where are my sons?”

 

No One, her voice a song

tumbled past the flower of her mouth low from her throat

this voice could have seduced conquerors

it rang clearly throughout the room

caressing the dusty banners on the wall

before it floated back down to his ears

 

_“They’re here, my lord.”_

 

his voice wasps irritated the hive disturbed found wasps giving chase his voice:

“Where are my damned sons?”

 

she suppressed her smile

the elegant hands gestured slightly

a good servant, ready to answer his query

 

she couldn’t help a flourish to show her handiwork

she bent lower to display

the plate in front of him.

 

_“They’re already here, my lord.”_

 

she could not resist the flush

of effervescent joy

the Freys

let them feel the just sting of her blade

carve their flesh

watch their lives end

 

_“Here, my lord.”_

 

thrill of watching the awareness slip over his face

as he took another look at the meal in front of him.

 

his eyes first suspicious and then

horror came over him

she couldn’t stop No One’s full lips from slowly stretching

tightly over her teeth

into a smile a grimace a sneer of revenge

of glee

 

_“They weren’t easy to carve. Especially Black Walder.”_

 

he looked up at her in dread

terror circulating through his body

she reached up to display her true face

she is not No One

 

Arya Stark of Winterfell

Arya Stark

her face

the culmination the blood of all the Starks

her face

descended from the First Men

 

_Oh at last! At last!_

knife in hand

vengeance like honey, thick sweet at the back of her throat

exhilaration rising through her body animating it prickling every cell

at last at last

rapture

so long delayed and finally finally sweetly in front of her

she would revel in his blood

his traitorous life spilling

and it would seep down on the floor in front of her where her mother took her last breath

where his treachery took the last King of the North

 

all of her pain, her training for this one moment

her loves, her hopes her dreams coalesced into this instant

and her voice rang clear

her voice

her self

 

" _My name is Arya Stark. I want you to know that... the last thing you're ever going to see is a Stark smiling down at you as you die._ "

 

oh! the ecstatic fervor!

the wolf has returned

teeth bared

 

her knife sang

drew it across his throat

watch the pale skin separate

feel the blade drag across the tendons

slice through muscles

watching his blood spurt out

his mouth gasping for air

burbling as his life spilled down him

running down his dying body

dripping onto the castle floor

 

she exhaled as his life ended

orgiastic release to realize his death by her hand

and the waves of it warmed her body

starting in her center and waving out

she crested on the euphoria of revenge

and allowed it to wash through her body before she

took one long last look at her prize

slipped out of the chamber on catfoot

while Walder Frey’s blood pooled around him

and his last traitorous breath raggedly escaped his body

 

* * *

 

_he was waiting for her_

_just outside the moldering castle walls_

_watching the river tumble over the rocks_

_he was waiting_

 

_silent footfalls did not betray her joy_

_she was No One_

_she walked up and bowed her head_

_and looked at her master_

_said the words_

 

_Valar Morghulis_

 

_his reply_

_a murmur_

_imbued with want_

_rippled through her_

_inflaming her_

_as he pressed her to him_

 

_Valar Doeharis_

 

_she took the blood of Walder Frey from her knife_

_and reached up to his full soft lips_

_scarlet smear upon his mouth_

_this was his work as well_

 

_they entwined_

_their kiss heightened_

_with the coppery taste of retribution_

_bloodtongues sliding_

_bloodlust mingling with desire_

_euphoria of sex and blood_

_encapsulating them_

 

_they broke, reluctantly: later_

_even as the plaintive calls of the night’s river creatures_

_begged them to stay_

_even as they started to ride_

_triumphantly_

_snowflakes starting to swirl around them_

_each fluttering icy marvel ushering them along_

_to their final destination:_

_to the North._

 

**Author's Note:**

> an imagining of what Arya's revenge on the Frey's might have looked like. 
> 
> your feedback is most appreciated, helps me gain confidence to do the next one. 
> 
> Cheers! and make sure you check all of your pies : )


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